


The end of another live show

by avant_that_garde



Category: Ylvis
Genre: Balle - Freeform, Fluff and Smut, I kveld med Ylvis, M/M, Tags Are Hard, after the show, so many feelings
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-14
Updated: 2018-09-01
Packaged: 2019-06-10 02:19:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,312
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15281427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avant_that_garde/pseuds/avant_that_garde
Summary: It was the end of another live show and Bård Ylvisåker decided to break his silence.





	1. Knock, knock...

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to try something different, i hope you'll enjoy it! :)

It was the end of another live show. 1400 people watched them in _Folketeatret_ and many more live on TV at home. It was their 5th season, and they were more than successful. People were cheering, teenage girls were screaming their names, the whole thing was as euphoric as it could get. ‘

It was the end of another live show. They killed it, the dialogues, the sketches and the interview…everything went exactly as planned, with some improvised jokes they threw in last minute. It was a show they could proudly call perfect, at least if they would rely on the reactions of the audience. They were standing there, on stage, waving and saying their goodbyes to the cheering masses, but Bård felt like he was watching the whole scene from outside. He looked at his brother. He was smiling, he looked like he had the time of his life, just as Magnus and…

And Calle.

It was the end of another live show and Bård just couldn’t have felt shittier. His 1000 watt showbiz-smile was present on his face, just as always, but it wasn’t as genuine as it should’ve been. It was a part of the performance, it was pure acting, and it was very useful. As long as it could hide the emotional scars and the sorrow in his eyes.

It was the end of another live show and as the orchestra played the last notes of their theme music, they ran off-stage to make a new episode of “Tonight with Ylvis” for YouTube. They finished it quickly. They have answered some questions, played some weird instruments and listed their top 7s. It was fun, as always, whatever “fun” meant.

He knew he was a brilliant actor, even though he never really worked as one _. Because they were only clowns_ , as they usually said in interviews. But truth to be told, he always thought he could have made it as an actor. He was very believable. _He_ was the one of the brothers who was discovered in his high school years because of his acting skills. But would he enjoy working as one, when his whole life was a poorly written play? Would he enjoy being one when he was acting 24/7, playing the role of a happy, successful man, when in reality he was in the bottom of depression and searching for comfort in alcohol?

“Get dressed already, we gotta go home!” – His brother’s words snapped him back to the present and he started changing. _Home,_ what home, like he had one. Yes, he had 3 kids, and he loved them with all his might, they meant everything to him. He also had a wife. A wife everyone called beautiful, nice and too good for him. They had a huge mansion where they lived together, and they looked like the picture-perfect family. He worked hard and his wife took care of the kids, so he wasn’t really present in their lives. Not like he minded, though. He missed the kids sometimes, but he always comforted himself with the thought that he had to provide for them and that it was his way of being a good parent, but deep inside he knew it was very debatable. But how could he stress about his family from hundreds of kilometers away, when he had a much bigger problem in the changing room next to his?

He put on his regular clothes and stepped out of his personal changing room. He had to drag himself to the neighboring door, he found moving forward incredibly hard, his feet felt like they were made of stone. His head felt heavy and his vision was blurry as he tried to make out the words written on a paper on the door:

“CARL FREDRIK HELLEVANG-LARSEN”

He lifted his hand to knock, but some mysterious force stopped him before his knuckle could have reached the wooden surface. He tried it again and again, but when he still couldn’t bring himself to do it after the fifth time, he started to panic. He knew he didn’t have much time, before Vegard would return and they would have to go back to the airport. He had to get his shit together and do it, because this was the perfect opportunity. Everyone was in rush, and nobody would notice if they would disappear for a few minutes, or maybe more.

He sighed, a bit louder than he would’ve wanted. As he lifted his hand once again to knock, his mind got flooded by thousands of chaotic thoughts and hazy pictures about the man on the other side of the door. His level of adrenaline ran high, his palms were sweaty and he felt his heart beat in his throat. He had accepted the fact that he might be gay a while ago. He wasn’t completely sure, knowing he had only dated girls in the past, but the missing feeling of comfort and satisfaction in his relationships lead him to the realization. It was the same with his wife. He kind of loved her, but more in a friendly way. He cared for her, but their relationship was very platonic and lacked physical contact. They occasionally had sex, which resulted in the birth of the three kids, but it was never something he particularly enjoyed or looked forward to.

But Calle, oh Calle…this man, who has been a part of his life since they were young boys, this man who had the brightest blue eyes and the fairest blond hair, this man whose smile could make him blush like a pre-teen girl and whose touch could make his blood boil…

He knocked on the door. Finally. Even though his movements were not really confident and his knocks ended up sounding very weak and barely audible.

He remembered the first time he met Calle. Vegard brought him home to play some video games and introduced them to each other. He was 10, Calle was 15 and he was the coolest guy in whole entire world. Or at least in Norway. The three of them started to hang out together and as time went by, Bård started to really admire the blond boy who never looked down on him because of his age, or the things he liked. He felt lucky to have an older friend and he secretly enjoyed the attention he got from him, whether it was only a few minutes of small-talk, or hours of gaming in silence.

After long moments of waiting, which felt like hours, he realized that he had to knock again if he wanted to get the blond man’s attention. “Goddamit, Ylvisåker, be a fucking man and knock already like a normal person…!”- He hissed between his teeth and raised his hand to repeat his actions with bigger force and stronger will.

As his early teenage years passed by, his admiration and attention seeking developed into something deeper and more meaningful, and at the tender age of 14 he realized he was in love. He had never ever felt as happy and heartbroken at the same time, he was seeing the world through pink lenses, but knowing that his beloved Calle was 19 years old and in a serious relationship with some girl from his college made him cry himself to sleep every night, until they eventually broke up. But he just couldn’t keep himself away from him, he followed him to parties – he didn’t care he was too young – and he tried to occupy the man by making him spend all his treasurable free time with him.

Again, silence. He was sure his knocks were loud enough, but all he could hear were faint sounds of packing clothes and some music from a radio. He knocked once again, and he told himself that if the door won’t open, he would find Vegard, rush to the airport and forget the whole idea. It started to become too much, he felt dizzy and wanted to get away, but his feelings kept him there, waiting for something to happen. Anything.

He thought he would eventually grow out of it, that his love was just a sick game his hormones were playing with him, but even though the years went by, his feeling stayed. When Calle went away to serve in the military, he reached a new low. He just couldn’t cope with the distance and exchanging letters was not the same as seeing him, looking into his bright blue eyes and watching his delicious, shapely lips as he talked to him, so he started dating random girls, and met his future wife. He missed him, he cried every day and he felt like he would never recover from the pain. Those were two extremely difficult years for Bård, but when his friend came back home he tried to act tough and suppress his joy in front of him, he didn’t want to seem weak and vulnerable in the eyes of the man he loved. And gosh, he loved him.

When they crossed their ways professionally, he was more than happy to work with him. It seemed like the best and the worst idea at the same time, but he only concentrated on the good part. Calle was a comical genius, and they just clicked perfectly as colleagues. Bård believed that it was the chemistry between the three of them that made them so successful, but he was also looking for a different kind of chemistry, between only the two blonds…A different kind of chemistry he never found because he was too shy and already married, so he  convinced himself that admiring him from a distance would be satisfying enough. It wasn’t. Then he discovered a temporary medicine that would ease the blunt pain in his soul: whiskey.

As he was standing there, almost ready to leave, the door slowly opened. He felt like he was losing his consciousness, his face was pale, his hands were sweaty, and he suddenly realized he was not ready for this _. Not now, not like this…_ \- he thought, but it was too late to run away and too late to find an excuse. He had to do it, he had waited enough. As he was struggling to find the right words, two strong hands grabbed him and pulled him into the tiny, dark room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i hope i didn't confuse you with jumping between the action and Bård's thoughts :D chapter 2 coming soon :)


	2. Forbidden thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A little bit from the other perspective...Enjoy ;)

**Two weeks before**

_“And what about a little boy kiss? A little buddy kiss? “_

_“Okay, come on, you’re gonna get your damn kiss…”_

_Calle leans in, with his eyes half-closed and his lips wet in anticipation._

_“I don’t like this…I really don’t like this… “– Bård lies. – “You are too close with your nose…”_

_He gets closer with a smile that tells he actually loves it. Vegard is saying something, but none of them cares. They kiss. It’s a little peck on the mouth and Bård breaks out in a nervous laughter._

_“Zero stress!” – Calle says with an enthusiastic grin on his face._

_Vegard suggests to watch the kiss in slow motion. They do it. The enjoyment on their faces is way more visible, Bård’s little smile, and the way Calle catches his lower lip, the pure attraction…_

_“Let’s move on!”-The younger man yells, and quickly changes the topic._

Calle was enjoying his day-off with a cup of black coffee in one hand and a cigarette in the other. He was standing on his balcony, lost in bittersweet nostalgic thoughts and memories about their beloved talk show, IKMY. They were close to the end of the fifth season, and no one really mentioned planning a sixth…Deep down he knew the chances were incredibly low for another one. They were tired, drained and had other plans for the future. Honestly, all of them were sick of that show. They’ve been doing it for so long, it was definitely time for a change. Calle felt the same way. It was harder and harder to come up with new ideas, and writing sketches was a damn misery, not to mention the tension and the chaos in the office every single day. He knew they should quit at their best, but it just felt so wrong. IKMY had been his life for years, and he just couldn’t think about letting it go yet.

He took a drag of his cigarette and smiled. He remembered that notorious episode from their third season, when he kissed Bård. They were talking to their VIP guests, a nice, albeit shy couple in love, and Calle thought they were so cute. Suddenly he wanted to see them kiss, but he didn’t expect that silly idea to pop up in his head… It was so spontaneous. He watched the lovebirds share a little peck on the lips, then he turned to Bård.

It all happened in a millisecond. He looked at this man, who had been one of his best friends for decades. He was bossy, wearing a fancy suit, sitting in the middle and acting like he owned the world, and suddenly a strange feeling hit Calle. He looked at his muscular frame, his pretty face and his charming smile, and he found himself staring at him while raw passion erased his better judgement.

_“And what about a little boy kiss? A little buddy kiss? “_

He didn’t know why he said that, or what happened to him. His animalistic instincts were suddenly awaken by the shapely lips of the younger man, and he felt a strong urge to feel them on his own. And he didn’t feel like wasting time. The kiss was short, but not at all as meaningless as it looked like. It was filled with repressed lust from both parties, with lust none of them knew the other felt too.

That night changed everything. At first, there were the barely noticable looks and the little touches. He sadistically enjoyed how his friend blushed furiously when he touched his shoulder or gave him a friendly hug. He found Bård’s behavior incredibly amusing. He was so shy, such a contrast to his usual, cocky persona. It kind of reminded him of their younger years, when Bård was so clingy and bashful, always looking for his company, following him everywhere like a cute little (slightly annoying) shadow. Calle could never say no to him, not to those puppy-like azure eyes…He was confused. Was he actually, seriously attracted to the younger Ylvisåker? He had to accept it: he was. He could never look at him the same way again. He noticed how luscious his lips were, how muscular his body was and how he was playing with his dark blond locks when he talked to him. Suddenly Calle found everything his friend did incredibly arousing, and it was hard to control himself.

But he tried to. He tried, because he was ashamed of himself. Craving for his friend, who was married and the father of three kids made him feel like a scumbag. Who was he to break up a family for his own physical needs? And he wasn’t single either, he was in the middle of planning his own wedding with his long-term girlfriend! But the desire had continued growing painfully and after 2 and a half years, while being married, he secretly still lusted after his friend.

He didn’t know what to do. Never releasing the pressure, never acting out his fantasies made him go crazy and become more aggressive in the bedroom. Whenever he was making love to his wife, pictures of Bård flooded his mind, he imagined his friend’s body writhing under him in pleasure instead of hers, and he found himself fucking the poor woman mercilessly into the bed every time, driven by the wild thoughts. His only other option was masturbating furiously in the shower, imagining those luscious lips he was lucky enough to taste, wrapped around his throbbing cock.

He knew he was doomed to suffer, but he chose not to fulfill his selfish desires, even though he had a feeling his friend would gladly join him on his sinful ways. He just didn’t want to destroy their comfortable little lives. He didn’t want to mess up everything around them. He promised himself he wouldn’t ever make a move, but as time went by it was harder and harder to keep his promise. Maybe if Bård would do something... He wouldn’t be able to say no to him. He never was.


	3. Tell me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for not posting for so darn long, I was traveling and now I’m back home studying, but I decided to continue,because I reeeally want to finish this… sooo yeah…If you are still reading this, kudos for you :) Also, huuuge thanks for my dear friend, Ë. for helping me out with the storyline in this chapter by giving me some inspo/ideas when I had none and proofreading this mess even though she’s shipping none of this :D thx girl <3  
> PS. I corrected a few little things in the previous chapter, because I felt like it was necessary. I think/hope i made things clearer, so check it out ! :)

Calle was slowly swaying his hips to the faint sounds of music coming from the radio with a smug grin on his face. He loved his little alone-time in the changing room, he could relax a bit after the show, listen to random songs and enjoy a few minutes of solitude. It was his weird little routine, but hey…every performer has one, right? He was halfway done with changing his clothes, he stood there bare-chested, only with his jeans on, sipping on the whiskey he smuggled in – he just didn’t want to share it with anyone. He wasn’t in a hurry, so he let himself enjoy every little moment of privacy. He remembered Vegard saying something about a plane he and Bård wanted to catch…he also said they were in a rush, probably for some family thingy, but Calle didn’t really care…

As he was trying to light a cigarette right next to the “No Smoking” sign, he heard a quiet sound coming from the door. It sounded like knocking, but it was too faint, so he figured it must have been someone’s footsteps, or something else. He took a long drag of his beloved cigarette, and sat back into his chair.

He smiled to himself. Tonight’s show was a success, the audience was amazing and they got a great feedback. He felt so alive on stage, and even later in his minutes of privacy, he could feel the kicks of adrenaline rushing through his body, leaving his mind in a constant state of euphoria. He LOVED his job, he loved entertaining people and he loved -

His thoughts were interrupted by another, slightly more audible sound from the heavy, wooden door. This was definitely knocking. Calle rolled his eyes. Who could that be, interrupting him in his precious minutes of solitude? He felt irritated, damn, he just wanted to chill, was it such a big thing to ask for? He assumed the knocking must’ve been a subtle warning for him to hurry up, so he put out his cigarette, threw the stub on the floor and started packing his clothes away with obvious irritation in his moves.

When he was almost done, he noticed he was still half naked. He let out a chuckle and reached for his T-shirt when the mysterious person on the other side of the door knocked again. This time it was quick and loud, it sounded nervous and demanding, and the realization hit Calle right in the head.

“Bård...” – he whispered.

He wasn’t sure, but somehow he knew. Some instinct told him it was his handsome friend waiting for him on the other side, and he wished it was true. Gosh, he wished. _Why would he be here now, what about his plane…? –_ he wondered.

_Fuck that plane._

He poured himself another shot of whiskey and quickly downed his drink. He felt the alcohol rush through his veins and his mind, making him braver than ever. He suddenly had an idea. He turned the lights off, opened the door slowly with a sly grin on his face – not thinking about the consequences if the person knocking wasn’t actually Bård- and pulled his nervous mess of a friend into the tiny room.

-

“Wow…It’s really you… _hei_ …” – Calle whispered into the younger man’s ear. His voice was already hoarse, he could barely hide his excitement. Bård stood only a few centimeters away from him and feeling the other’s body so close to his own made the older man slowly lose all his control.

Bård stood there shocked. How did this happen? A second ago he was standing outside, planning what he would say and suddenly he was in a dark room with Calle dangerously close to him…He felt his warm breath on his neck and it made him feel nauseous. A shiver ran down his spine, and his knees felt weak as he tried to regain control over his thoughts. He was ready, if the word “ready” meant terrified or uncertain.

“Calle…” –he began, looking for the easiest, most effective way. Should he explain everything? Should he tell his friend how long he had felt this way, and how important his friendship was to him, but how he felt more than he was supposed to? Should he tell him that he was sorry for never confessing how he felt, and how he hated himself for being such a coward?

“Hm?”

Or should he be straightforward? Should he drop the three-word bomb immediately and be done with it? He knew that would be the fastest way out, the small room and his best friend’s closeness were suffocating him, but as he opened his mouth, the only sound that came out was a trembling sigh.

He looked up, but in the heavy darkness he couldn’t make out the expression on his beloved’s face. His hands were shaking, his breathing was uneven, his thoughts were racing, and he suddenly remembered Vegard…He knew he was running out of time, his panic grew with every passing second, just as the need to run away from this unbearable situation. But it was too late, as Calle brought Bård’s trembling hand to his lips and planted a gentle kiss on it.

“Do you think I don’t know?” –the older man asked. His delicious baritone voice sounded even lower, almost purring. Bård was suddenly very happy about the lack of light in the room, as he felt the blush spreading on his face, making it bright red. He also wanted to faint, he couldn’t process what was happening to him.

“Calle…”

“Shhh…I’m talking now.”-the blond said, carefully caressing his terrified friend’s face with his thumb. –“I can’t hide this anymore, Bård…”

With every word, he leaned closer and closer to the trembling man, slowly pushing him towards the wall. Their foreheads were touching, and he propped his hands against the wall, trapping the younger man between his arms. He could sense the other’s panic and it gave him a kick of adrenaline as he spoke again.  

“Do you think I haven’t noticed…? The way you lick your sweet lips when you look at me…the way you blush when I’m close to you…the way you’re all pouty and cute when you want something, because you know I can’t resist you…” – he let out a loud sigh. – “You’re such a little tease, aren’t you? So cruel… ”

He leaned forward to catch his lips into a long, demanding kiss. Bård was shocked, but after a few seconds he reacted, and returned the kiss with the same amount of passion, letting the older man’s tongue explore his mouth.

Calle continued his trail of kisses along his jawline, traveling south towards his neck. As he planted a soft one onto the sensitive skin, the younger man let out a loud gasp. He registered it as a sign of approval and he continued his actions with a sly grin. He slowly explored the area, leaving tiny little love-bites from the collarbone to his ears, enjoying the vulnerable sounds Bård made, the repressed moans and the weak whimpers while he pushed him even further against the wall.

Suddenly, his hands started moving. He touched, squeezed and explored the body of the man who made him so desperate. His hand slipped under Bård’s shirt to feel his hot skin burning him, slowly caressing his firm muscles. He kissed him again with a force that made the other man feel the amount of passion that was building up in him, and he got the reaction he was looking for. Bård reached behind his back and pulled him close, he could feel his throbbing erection through the harsh fabric of his jeans, pushed against his thigh.

Calle’s hand travelled even lower, touching the other one softly and causing goosebumps to appear under his fingertips. When he reached the soft skin right above Bård’s belt, the younger man let out a trembling moan and started pleading:

“Calle…aghhhh…” –he threw his head back involuntarily- “Touch me…please…PLEASE…”

Calle unbuckled his partner’s belt, but his hand stopped abruptly.

“Are you sure?”

“Please!” – Bård moaned.

Calle didn’t need more encouragement, he pulled down the man’s boxers and wrapped his hand around the throbbing member.

Bård couldn’t comprehend what was happening to him, his mind was in a euphoric haze as his best friend’s hand worked on his cock. He was in heaven.

At one point he saw Calle kneeling down in front of him. He could feel the warmth of his mouth wrapped around his painfully hard shaft. His body reacted without him even realizing it, his hands tangled into the short blond locks, and his hips started thrusting forward into the depths of the older man’s throat.

He heard Calle’s mewls. He heard himself moaning sweet obscenities into the air that was heavy, and filled with their shared lust. He was horny. He was in love. He was lost.

He heard the loud knocks on the door, but he simply couldn’t react. Then suddenly Vegard was there, yelling at them, something about the plane and Calle being a piece of shit. He got pulled out of the room, and stuffed into the taxi with his bags. He had to go home. _Home_ , like he had one.

As the cold air cleared his mind, he pulled his phone out and started typing:

“I just wanted to say...I love you, you idiot”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's not the end yet, there are some more feelings and angst stuff on the way, keep an eye on the updates ;)  
> ps. thank you for reading! <3


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